


Antelope

by kleine_aster



Category: Batman (Comics), Grayson (Comics)
Genre: Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Humiliation, Infidelity, M/M, Nipple Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 03:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2757698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kleine_aster/pseuds/kleine_aster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not the scary leather man Dick wants, but the one he needs right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Antelope

"Name was Nightwing, right," Midnighter mutters while he pins him to the wall by his wrists. He does it slowly, calmly, like a snake that knows their prey will not escape. "Batman’s boy."

Dick sputters out a nervous laugh before he can help it, and nips at Midnighter’s cruel, wide mouth to distract him from … that whole train of thought. The mention of Bruce is not something he welcomes, however, it does  _nothing_  to diminish the fear boner he’s sporting, a fact that escapes exactly no-one. That’s … not something Dick cares to go into right now.

"So?" He asks, as casually as possible, "Don’t know if you noticed, but I didn’t come by to chat –"

Midnighter’s not impressed by his playful flirting. Dick lets out a hard grunt as the big man pushes him into the wall and comes at him with red-shielded eyes, deadly teeth and a strong scent of black leather that makes his knees weak with strange nostalgia.

"So, which is it," he purrs, studying him like something to be dissected. "Did you fuck him, or do you only wish that you had?"

A deep involuntary shiver runs through Dick’s body, and suddenly he’s vibrating between the wood paneling and Midnighter’s bulky frame, in a way that he hasn’t anticipated, and cannot control.

“ _Fuckyou_ ,” he gasps, reflexively and defensively. And then he blushes, hard.

"Ah." Midnighter tilts his head and seems pleased by his outburst. He lets go of Dick’s wrists to crudely pat his rosy cheek with one big gloved paw, a gesture that’s as generous as it’s belittling. It should drive him crazy, but in his current state, it only makes his spine tingle funnily and inspires a desire to have those fingers in his mouth.

"Don’t worry," the older man says, with a grin that would make anyone worry, immediately, about everything, "You need someone to talk through your issues with, I’m not your guy."

"Good," Dick squeezes out, then throws in a cocky smile to cover up his nerves. "I wouldn’t want you to be."

"Right," Midnighter replies, stretching the word like he doesn’t buy it.

His grin widens, turns almost mocking, but then he leans in to kiss Dick again. Dick has never kissed a mouth like his. Midnighter’s kisses are sloppy, lazy, like he’s not even trying. His stubble is tearing at Dick’s face in a manner that shows he doesn’t care that it’ll burn later. It’s not passionate, it’s predatory. It’s creeptown, and Dick wonders why he’s so aroused right now, and why his freed hands are fumbling for the collar of the other man’s coat as he kisses him back. He closes his eyes and moans, and there’s an answering hum indicating that, maybe, whatever he’s doing here might be working.

They’re kissing and grinding in a secluded cabin in the Alaska woods where Stormwatch’s kept killer is currently investigating an old mine for alien infestation. Minos had insisted that this was a  _very_  good week to get to him alone, without his ragtag team of tricked-out super-beings to interfere. Minos had called Midnighter “vulnerable”, which proves that he is either hilarious, or slowly drifting away from reality. Minos and Matron had both endorsed Dick to be the one to go in and establish contact, because they insisted that Midnighter would “respond” to him.  When Dick had asked if it was because he’s met him before, they had hurried to agree “Yes, that’s why,” in a weird tone.

Dick had always known in the back of his mind that a mission like this might come his way one day, but it still had kept him up at night for a while. He’d told Helena at least 10 times that he didn’t want to use sex like that, and Helena had assured him, also 10 times, that sex wasn’t necessarily on the table. That it was mostly about using your charm, about flirting, making a connection. Dick knew that was something he could do. And even if he hadn’t admitted it to anyone, laying it on a dark, grim vigilante had kind of intrigued him. Honestly, he’d mostly wanted to see if he could pull it off.

Now, however, as he finds himself wedged between a wall and the Midnighter, riding his leg as if he had to get to Metropolis overnight, it was probably safe to say that his mission had somewhat escalated.

Dick makes sure to produce a noise like he’s into it when a dark glove slides underneath his tight shirt. Moments later, he shudders and begins to  _actually_  get into it when rough fingers start tweaking his left nipple.

"This could play out in a number of ways, and I know every single one," Midnighter tells him, predictably, though Dick isn’t prepared for what comes next. "Which one do you want? The one where you end up begging me on your knees after I show you how hard I can make you work for it? The one where I bend you over that table and get you off so good you won’t even look at me after because you’re too embarrassed? Or the one where you accidentally call me _'Daddy'_  while I do you on that rug by the fireplace over there? I’ll let you pick.”

"Ah –"

Dick bites his lip and tries to steady his breathing. Midnighter’s voice is not the _right_  shade of gravelly, but it’s  _a_  shade of gravelly, and it’s making his hairs stand up and his stiff cock strain against his zipper. It’s breathtaking to think that he can do all that with the computer in his brain. On the other hand, however, each option sounds more mortifying than the last.

He decides to deflect by cocking a sly brow at him. “Is there a version that ends with  _you_  calling  _me_  ‘Daddy’, big guy?”

Midnighter stirs, and seems to have some kind of reaction to Dick teasing him back; whether it confuses or pleases him is hard to say.

"You’re not that good," he grumbles. But then, a smirk tugs on his lips, and Dick knows for certain that he’s affecting him. "Yet."

He returns the smirk. “Letting me choose, though, huh? Gentlemanly, that.”

"I already chose. Those are the three I prefer. You see…"

Dick stops smiling and flinches when the other man’s fingers suddenly clamp down around his nipple in a way that hurts.

"I figured, since you’re not here by choice, I could at least give you some options."

Dick feels his stomach drop, and for the first time since they’d started touching mouths, the fear part is overriding the boner part.

"Wh-what are you talking about?"

"Dick Grayson. I’m gay, not terminally stupid." The nipple play intensifies to a point where it starts to feel more like an interrogation technique. Or punishment. "I know what you’re doing, you’re trying to honeypot me."

Dick lets out a soft cry, and tears well up in his eyes as steely fingers pinch and twist his sensitive flesh. Letting a known murderer with notorious bone-crushing hands play with your nipples. Good thinking, Agent Grayson. He isn’t sure why he’s still horny; only that he is. The stern frown on the cowled man’s face is not helping.  

"You’re a fine young man." There’s a hint of regret in Midnighter’s voice, but it’s the kind of cold, distant regret commonly found in psychopaths, as he keeps tugging at him, hard, "But if you don’t mind me saying, you’re not very good at this."

Dick blinks with watery eyes. “I- Ah-“

"You might wanna start by not squirming away from me like you’re Ripley in _Alien_.”

"I w – Was I?"

"Yeah. Y’know, like I’m the alien from  _Alien_.”

"Yes, I g- I got that."

He’s tense, acutely aware that his life is in danger. He should probably at least _try_  to wiggle his way out of this, he knows, but all Dick does is grow very still, as humiliation washes over him. He doesn’t even attempt to get the bigger man to stop hurting him. In a perverse way, it feels like he deserves it. He doesn’t exactly like himself for signing up to do this, and he’s not sure if he likes that he started  _liking_  doing it, Midnighter probably hates him, and  _Bruce_  would hate him if he knew what he was doing -

And somehow, he’s  _still_  semi-erect.

Dick swallows. It seems insulting to both of them to try keeping up the charade now. “How long have you known?”

"Since you walked into that bar tonight, and told me how  _you couldn’t stop thinking of me_.”

Midnighter scrunches up his nose as if someone had forced him to sit through an exceptionally bad high school play, and Dick admits that, yeah, he should’ve probably questioned why that line had even worked; but at least his nipple gets released. Midnighter cracks his knuckles.

"I considered breaking both your legs right there and leave you in the dumpster behind the bar for your bosses to collect. But you were trying so hard, I got curious how far you’d take it."

"Curious," Dick repeats, cautiously glancing at where the big man’s eyes are hidden. " _That’s_  what you were.”

"Yeah,  _curious_ ,” Midnighter hisses, an edge in his voice warning Dick not to question that.

Dick narrows his eyes. He doesn’t care to tell him that there’d been a point tonight where he’d stopped  _trying_ , and simply started responding to something that the other man had that faintly reminded him of another thing he missed. The way Midnighter has been talking to him, the way he’s been touching him, he probably has some idea. And he’d had no qualms pawing at it, toying with it, because he’s not a good man (and neither, Dick reminds himself, is he right now). And it’s still in play, working its twisted magic. Dick’s ashamed and anxious and he desperately wants to be somewhere else, yet he also wants the older man to reach down into the waistband of his pants and rub his cock already and maybe tell him that he’s a good boy.  

From the way they keep gazing at each other, Midnighter probably knows  _that_ , too.

Eventually, Dick clears his throat. “Actually, I can get pretty far with two broken legs, using only my arms,” he says dryly. “You’d be surprised.”

Midnighter snorts, prompting Dick to chuckle, too. Some of the tension wears off, even though Dick knows it probably shouldn’t.

"Look, it’s not gonna work." Midnighter sounds dismissive, but there’s something in the pointedly casual way he straightens his broad shoulders that suggests he’s embarrassed by something, "I wouldn’t give you anything, so cut your losses  and run along now. I’ll let you."

"Uh, thanks."

 Midnighter grunts, and Dick watches him from half-lidded eyes and wonders. It’s the third time they clash, and Dick can’t imagine that Midnighter isn’t suitably annoyed with him by now, yet he still has to even try to end him (something he probably could if he really wanted to, even though Dick wouldn’t make it easy), which seems … unexpected. Maybe he always catches him on his off days.

Or maybe it’s something else.

Dich swallows hard and licks his lips. “By the way. Those things you said, about … the things. We’d do. You were messing with me, right?”

"Oh, no." Midnighter grins at him, a genuinely pleased grin, and it looks as real as Dick has ever seen him. "I could do that to you. That and more."

"You could make me call you ‘Daddy’?" He nearly cringes at how small his voice is.

"Sweetheart, look at you." Midnighter’s tone his mocking, but his touch is light when he cups Dick’s face again. " _Anyone_  could make  _you_ call them ‘Daddy’. But I’ll wear a cowl while I do it. And that’s what you really want, isn’t it.”

Dick bristles and wants to tell him that, if he wants this to work, he  _needs_  to tread more lightly around that whole thing, but then his body goes all tight and his hips start quivering because Midnighter stops touching his face and reaches down to touch his dick, and he “Ooohs” a little louder than he thought he would. The older man chuckles at him. And then, he’s getting stroked, deftly, expertly, and he closes his eyes and he feels loved, even though love has nothing to do with it. He gets fully hard again embarrassingly fast; there’s something about feeling a pair of bone-breaking hands apply a gentle touch like that. He’s aware that his life is still in danger, but it’s a turn-on, it’s  _always_  been a turn-on, and he’s not in a position where he has to pretend it’s not.

"I take it if wanna I stay, you’ll let me, too?" He asks, words coming out clipped and fast as he grinds against the taller man’s hand like a needy pet.

"Gave you an out, you didn’t take it," Midnighter mutters, while he continues working Dick’s cock. "You’re staying."

"Hah-" Dick half-laughs, half-sighs, and then the Midnighter’s mouth is on his again. Their kissing is still sloppy, devoid of passion or affection, but it’s lewd, and that has its own appeal.

"You knew it’d happen this way," Dick whispers, closing his eyes and letting his head sink against the wall behind him. "You knew from the start, and you let it. You  _want_  me.”

“ _Fuckyou_ ,” Midnighter retorts hoarsely, and Dick feels his heart skip when he hears the heavy man get on his knees in front of him.

All things considered, despite Midnighter being a psychotic abuser of nipples and Dick being only tangentially familiar with what to do to another man, they end up making it as good as it was promised.

Midnighter doesn’t respect him, he possibly doesn’t even like him, but he  _does_ want him, and he knows how to touch him the right way and kiss him the right way, and once he’s got Dick pinned beneath his large body on that rug, arching his back and panting  _yes, daddy_ , he knows to stroke his face and call him  _kid_  and _boy_  and  _son_  the right amount of times. And he’s getting off on it too, Dick gets him to shiver and sigh and moan, too, his cowled face pressed into the crook of Dick’s neck. Once they collapse into a heap of naked flesh on the ground, Dick knows he’ll be aching for days, and then every time he thinks of this.

They lie in front of the fireplace together for longer than strictly necessary. Dick isn’t against it. Honestly, he has no idea how to go home – well, not  _home_ , back to Spyral – after this. He has no idea how to do a  _report_  on this, or how to even reflect on this. He has no idea how he’s going to talk to Batman next time, hearing his familiar deep dark voice and feeling what it does with him.

He wants to avoid these things more than he currently wants to avoid Midnighter, so he stays, and the older man allows it. Midnighter has ceased all affection now that they’re done, as if he wants to make sure that Dick doesn’t mistake this for anything. But he’s splayed out like a contented cat, and he’s warm and big, and whenever Dick runs his fingers through the hair on his chest, he makes a low, relaxed, approving sound. Dick stares at his broad chest and his strong, scarred arms, and finds both to be comforting.

"You’re …" He blinks wearily, and sighs. His guard is still down, his thoughts muddled and woozy. "You’re nothing like him, you know."

Midnighter snorts. “You mean, he’s nothing like  _me_ ,” he says, then wraps his arm around Dick like he’s claiming a prize.

Dick lazily swats at him. “You pompous ass.”

Midnighter growls with amusement, then reaches down and softly squeezes Dick’s backside again, as if he’d been invited to. The touch of his hands is welcome. Dick’s eyes flutter and fall shut, and then –  

Everything stops when the cabin they’re in explodes in a hail of fire.

The ceiling above them  _disintegrates_ , pelting their naked skin with smoldering wood and debris, and Dick looks up and experiences the fear that antelopes have to feel when a lion strides up.

A lion that … can fly and shoot lasers, apparently.

He’s hovering above them, stunningly beautiful and profoundly terrifying, illuminating the night sky with his halo, burning with what looks like righteous wrath, and also actual fire.

"Seriously," Apollo booms, and even his words seem scorching hot, " _Seriously?!_ ”

Dick knows who he is, but he’s  _not_  prepared for what he sees. You’d think he’d be used to something like this, being pals with Superman, but Apollo clearly has all of Superman’s intense power and none of Superman’s sweet disposition. (Though, to be fair, Dick had never tried to get with Lois.)

He tries to move, fast, but Midnighter is even faster. He gets on his feet as swiftly as a dancer, facing the vision descending on them from the heavens.

"Hey," is all he says. He’s not scared, he’s not submissive, but he is clearly very cautious. "Okay,  _easy_.”

This only makes Apollo’s ruby eyes ignite with anger. Literally; they turn an ever deeper shade of red, and it looks like he’s charging up, which is not good.

"Get behind me, kiddo," Midnighter growls at Dick, out the corner of his mouth. "Trust me, you don’t want any of this."

Dick doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s brave, but not insane, and for once, his self-preservation kicks in at the right moment. He slinks behind Midnighter’s back, trying not to look like he’s cowering, trying to ignore how good and familiar it feels to hide in the shadow of another man’s large frame.

"You said he’d be  _okay_  with it,” he whispers hastily, like every mistress in every crappy movie.

"I might have miscalculated," Midnighter snarls, his mean mouth curling into a smile. "Oh wait, I never do. I lied."

Dick feels his face grow bright red. Not that it should matter, with how messed-up this whole thing was from the start, but somehow, this reveal still offends his sensibilities.

He punches the other man’s shoulder. “ _Un_ believable,” he hisses, and Midnighter laughs.

Dick shoots him a dirty look, then gets on his toes to peek at Apollo, even though it means going against every instinct he possesses. “Look, listen, I’m really sorry, I honestly had no id-“

Apollo’s fiery gaze turns to him with deadly precision, and then he makes the lamp next to Dick explode, spraying him with little shards of glass and clay. Dick flinches, but he takes it. He feels like he deserves that, too.

"Fair enough," he squeaks, and disappears from view again.

"Forget him, he’s nothing," Midnighter says to Apollo, with a dismissive nod in Dick’s direction. "He’s just a dumb kid."

There’s a slight possibility that he says it because he wants to protect Dick, and a very strong chance that he just means it. Midnighter’s eyes are fixed on the gorgeous man looming above them, and his face is glowing in a way it hadn’t when he’d been with Dick, and Dick is familiar enough with the feeling to know what it is. This is passion.

"Come here," he says to his teammate, a low, dangerous purr in his voice, "And take it up with me."

"You filthy bastard."

Apollo glares at him, a slight blush on his high cheek-bones, and suddenly, the air seems to crackle with a weird sexual energy that Dick isn’t sure he’s prepared to deal with.

"You can run fast, right?" Midnighter mumbles as Apollo’s eyes start to turn deep red again.

"Y-yes."

"Then do."

"But –"

"What. Worried about me?" Midnighter tilts his head, looking at Dick for the first time since Apollo showed up. "Surely not. Think of it as a special kind of foreplay. You wouldn’t get it."

He shoots him that genuine grin again, before turning his adoring eyes back at the Sun God. “I know how  _this_  ends, too.”

"Oh, let me show you how much you  _know_ ,” Apollo’s voice is low and loaded, and Midnighter whispers, “Go,” before slapping Dick’s flank as if he was setting a horse free.

And Dick Grayson, Agent of Spyral, drops and rolls, grabs whatever he can of his clothes, and scrambles out of sight, all while intoning “Fuck fuck  _fuck_  fuck _fuck_ ,” which is another thing he doesn’t usually do.

He doesn’t stop running until he’s absolutely sure nobody is following him. When he takes a cautious look back, he’s treated to the sight of the two titans flying at each other in mid-air like something out of a mythical text.

Speaking of fear boners.

As perversely tempting as it is to watch, he turns around and picks up a brisk pace, somehow managing to stumble into his pants, shirt, and one boot without having to stop. The sub-zero temperatures are brutal, but he finds his communicator safely stored in his pants pocket, and he knows he can signal Helena to pick him up before anything freezes off. And then, he can dive into Spyral’s spacious pool, and scream underwater for maybe ten minutes, or, a day.

If Bruce calls in and asks him why he sounds so weird, Dick thinks, he’ll go with telling him he caught a really bad bug up in Alaska, for now.


End file.
